Not meant to be...

How quickly things go back to "normal". Yesterday, i was pregnant (sort of). Today, i am not.

It was the first scan where i was probly more than 50% optimistic to see how the little thing had grown and it came up with no heartbeat. It had given up somewhere between wk 8 and now.

On the table, looking, i almost wanted to laugh. Yes, of course this would be our luck. This would be exactly what would happen. We half knew it was doomed in our hearts. I had just told a friend the day before that we haven't even begun to be excited about it. I had even told darling husband in the waiting room prior that his lack of enthusiasm was bringing me down and i couldn't get happy about it until he did. Thank goodness one of us was level headed enough not to get caught up with it all.

So it's over. And sad as i am, i'm not utterly shocked or devastated. Some things are just not meant to be for some people. Though i am wondering what the point of all of these last few weeks were. Perhaps someone out there just wanted to see what we would do and screw around with our minds just a little bit more. Or maybe, it had to come to this for me to be 100% sure that we will never have another child. Or maybe a 1% chance that we should keep trying because us getting knocked up this time was inconceivable anyways (OH MY GOD, NO!).

So now we wait til Monday for what has been diagnosed as an inevitable abortion (totally halarious, the idea that i'm having an abortion!) and the evacuation of my uterus of this unfortunate "medical condition" which we had taken to calling it.

Today was back to normal. Even any feelings of pregnancy symptoms had disappeared and i felt back to myself again, physically. Pity that the big belly is actually pure fat - i'm going to have to do something about that now. And i made myself coffee in the morning and savoured every sip.

I've shed a few tears, mostly when well-meaning friends and family decide to use their "sad" voices and their "pity" faces when they ask me how i'm doing or say they are sorry. I know there is nothing else to say about it and most people just have to say it. I would be doing the same. But it seems harder to bear their disappointment than my own. It's not that i don't care. I care alot and i feel it too at times. But what is the use of wallowing in this for any amount of time when it was just not meant to be.

This is nothing like my first "incident" when the aftermath was like the year of the bitch from hell. The pain and grief was almost too much and the outcome of it was like turning my heart to stone.

But this... this is more like a wasted few weeks and wasted dollars and damn, it's unfortunate, but after all the disappointments and heartache we've had in this arena, what did we expect. Right now i'm feeling more pissed about the $4,000 for the evacuation of my uterus and the $2,000 for the other useless drugs and doctors visits we've had to endure.

Thinking about it now, it just serves me right for reading smutty novels and having sex wantonly. One thing is for sure. I'm never having intercourse again!